A Song for the Seasons

When the merry lark doth gild

With his song the summer hours,

And their nests the swallows build

In the roofs and tops of towers,

And the golden broom-flower burns

All about the waste,

And the maiden May returns

With a pretty haste, -

Then, how merry are the times!

The Spring times! the Summer times!

Now, from off the ashy stone

The chilly midnight cricket crieth,

And all merry birds are flown,

And our dream of pleasure dieth;

Now the once blue, laughing sky

Saddens into gray,

And the frozen rivers sigh,

Pining all away!

Now, how solemn are the times!

The Winter times! the Night times!

Yet, be merry; all around

Is through one vast change revolving;

Even Night, who lately frowned,

Is in paler dawn dissolving;

Earth will burst her fetters strange,

And in Spring grow free;

All things in the world will change,

Save - my love for thee!

Sing then, hopeful are all times!

Winter, Spring, Summer times!

Bryan Waller Procter

This past weekend I was watching television when a 'Back to School' commercial came on, and I immediately thought, "My goodness, is it that time already? Where has the summer gone?"  My co-workers daughter will be heading up to her college at the Canadian border in a little over three weeks from now, and Labor Day is right around the corner.  Not that this has been a great summer for me. The unbearable heat and humidity have made me feel miserable, and I've had to bypass some of the things that I had planned on before the summer began.  I realize now that my intolerance to heat and the soaking sweats are a part of my thyroid disorder, but it doesn't make it any easier to deal with the discomfort.

Tomorrow we celebrate Lammas Day, an Anglo-Saxon word that means "Loaf Mass".  Doesn't it seem like just yesterday that we were planting the seeds in the ground? This day was originally celebrated by the ancient Druid priests as the festival of Lughnasadh in honor of the Celtic sun god, Lugh. Lammas is a tradition which comes to us from our Celtic ancestors who celebrated the harvesting of grain and the first loaf of bread made from the new harvest. In the Northern Hemisphere, it is always celebrated on August 1st. 

This is a time to pause and think about the blessings we receive, the Celtic Thanksgiving. One way to celebrate is to have a feast which begins and ends with gratitude and blessings for the food and wine. I like to celebrate with fresh produce and although I have to work and cannot bake any bread, (not that I would anyway; it is far too hot.  I will be having some Healthy Harvest spaghetti and a homemade meat sauce I made from peppers, onions, garlic, and tomatoes on the vine. I've lots of fruit for dessert. Some fresh grapes will taste mighty good.

Manhattan is a city of districts...garment district, diamond exchange, etc...and I am blessed to work near the flower district.  In fact, I pass right through one of those blocks as I make my way to and from the subway.  Friday as I was walking to the train I notice a display of sunflowers, and I plan to stop on the way home today to purchase some. A vase of freshly cut sunflowers on the table is a marvelous decoration for Lammas.

Earth colors such as golds, yellows, browns, and orange are used to symbolize this time of the year, and I usually light a gold and yellow candles. This year I found a wonderfully scented orange candle with that fills the room with the scent pumpkin and spice...and it hasn't even been lit yet. 

Lammas is special to me, for although the summer's heat and humidity are usually at their height, we know that relief is on its way.

Monday This and That

The world of reality has its limits;

the world of imagination is boundless.

Jean-Jacques Rousseau

I had a quiet weekend.  On Saturday, I slept late for a change and later took a walk to the fruit stand.  I was hoping to find some more dinosaur plums; I fell in love with them, but it seems that every week they have different deliveries.  Donut peaches seem to be on their way out and there have been no more cherry plums, but I did find some nice red velvet avocados.  Also bought salad ingredients, some gorgeous tomatoes on the vine, some carrots, red, green, and orange peppers, and some brocolli rabe.

Spent the afternoon cooking some toppings for my foods, hoping to add some taste.  Tried one on Saturday's chicken, and it did make my food more interesting.  It was simple to do.  I chopped up the peppers, an onion, and two tomatoes and sauteed half in one pot and half in another in a little olive oil. I added some garlic powder in both, and in one I added some Mrs. Dash's Extra Spicy and in the other, some garlic and herb. Added a wee bit of water and let everything simmer for a few.

Bought a new Kindle book...."Believing in Fairies, A Manual for Grownups" by Marcia Zina Mager.  As children, we believe in magic, but as we grow older the adults laugh, or chide us for our silly beliefs,  and we begin to believe that there is no such thing as fairies or nature spirits.  And, by the time we are adults, we find ourselves trapped in the world of reality, unable to get back to that magical world we once knew. The following is part of the review: "This book is uniquely different. It is a modern day instruction manual directly from the mystical realm itself; a 'Celestine Prophecy' brought back from the natural world. It takes the reader on a rare journey into a kingdom governed by ancient principles and powerful truths that can change our planet. Believing in Faeries promises to alter the way we view the world."

Needless to say, I  had a hard time putting the book down, but I did want to spend some what I call 'dark time'.  This is that time that the television goes off, the Kindle put aside, and the lights turned off.  Only a candle remains lit.  The curtains are pulled aside, and it is only me and the darkness of night.  This is 'my' time, my very special time when the cares and worries of the day are brushed aside as the darkness surrounds me and protects me. The world about me is sleeping, quiet, and I sit alone, gazing up at the beauty of the night sky and feeling a sense of peace and wholeness and connection with the universe.

Sunday was rather uneventful, quiet time, getting ready for work...nails, laying out clothes for the week, cleaning out purse, etc...all those little things that have to be accomplished.  I look for little ways to avoid that morning rush to get ready.  There is nothing more frustrating in the morning than taking out a blouse and finding it needs ironing, or searching for an essential accessory such as a scarf or necklace.  It seems that the older I get, the more organized my life becomes.  Perhaps that is because the effects of the passage of time such as back aches and knee pain forces us to slow down, or perhaps it is because we finally realize that life passes by far too fast, and if we don't slow down we will miss it.

Wishing you all a great Monday and a sensational week.

The Flowers

All the names I know from nurse:

Gardener's garters, Shepherd's purse,

Bachelor's buttons, Lady's smock,

And the Lady Hollyhock.

Fairy places, fairy things,

Fairy woods where the wild bee wings,

Tiny trees for tiny dames--

These must all be fairy names!

Tiny woods below whose boughs

Shady fairies weave a house;

Tiny tree-tops, rose or thyme,

Where the braver fairies climb!

Fair are grown-up people's trees,

But the fairest woods are these;

Where, if I were not so tall,

I should live for good and all.

Robert Louis Stevenson

TGIF

Reflection is in many ways a lost art. It is an eyepiece to a world hidden

away, the world within ourselves which is alive with truths and beauties

and darkness we have never glimpsed. It seems sad that we slice our

time too thin for dreaming long dreams and thinking long thoughts.

We've grown uncomfortable with that sort of thing. For a long time

I had been uneasy left alone. I would snap on the television or grab

a book or make brownies. Anything. I suppose we are restless all

alone with ourselves, all alone in a room with a stranger. What if we

face ourselves and find we don't like the person we meet? I didn't

even want to spend much time in prayer because God might

confront me and I'd have to look at myself.

Sue Monk Kidd

Friday came very quickly this week, not that I am complaining. Looking forward to some quality alone time. Hubby will go visit his son on Saturday, and I will have the day to myself. After a trip to my favorite fruit stand, I've really nothing pressing that just HAS to be done. I'll probably chop up some red, yellow, and orange peppers, onions, and garlic and saute with a little salt-free tomato sauce and some Mrs. Dash to make some kind of flavorful topping for the foods that I find extra bland.  In the beginning, it was thrilling to try out new foods with new and different spices, but it is becoming a bit boring right now.

I am so trying to get this diet together...and now there is a second diet that I have to include...a diet for Graves Disease.  From research I have learned that certain foods aggravate  the thyroid.  Seafood, aside from tuna, is not a problem.  I don't like it anyway.  But dairy products are another story.  No more milk, even 1 percent, yogurt, and cheeses...not that I like lots of cheeses; in fact, the only ones I eat are Swiss and cheddar. It seems that our dairy products are loading with iodine, toxic for thyroid issues.  Almond milk here I come.  Anyone ever tried it?  

So, I guess what I am trying to say is this will be a weekend spent on food, but in a good way, finding healthy alternatives so I don't feel so left out when I see my office mates eating the foods that I once and still love, but are not on my menu any longer.  

Before closing, I've a question to ask.  It's personal and feel free not to answer.  This thyroid issue is all new to me, and I am wondering if anyone here has had to deal with it.  I'm especially frightened of the thyroid scan they scheduled for me on August 9th and 10th.  Taking something that is going to make me radioactive, albeit only a small amount, is really scaring me, and the more I read, the more frightened I get.  I've a hubby and an old kitty at home.  How do I steer clear of them?  I've only one bed now so one of us will be on the floor, but how do I keep a kitty who loves my feet away?  I also read in several sources that RAI treatment has, on occasion, made the condition worse. Seriously, I'm thinking about asking for other alternatives.  And perhaps, I am just worrying too much. And doing too much reading.

But hey, I am not going to let this spoil my weekend.  After all, the test is still a couple weeks away.  For now, I am going to relax and enjoy and treasure my special alone time.  Bought some of my favorite scented candles, a Kindle recipe book for making comfort foods with low sodium, and some new body lotion to pamper myself. 

Here's hoping you all have a fun-filled weekend?

 

Sometimes by Herman Hess

I love the following poem so much that I just had to share it with you.  The words are so special, so meaningful.  It speaks to me of a time, so long, long ago, when man lived close to nature, and  man consciously viewed   all life  as interconnected. This was  a time when all life was sacred. Man and all other life forms--plants, insects, stones, rivers-- were powerful allies connecting in a heartfelt thought form to communicate what was best or necessary for all species. Our ancestors performed rituals in sacred groves of trees to ceremonially connect with the divine. They knew the power of nature. We were all a part of the Great Mother from whose womb all of life came forth and to whose womb all life returned at death.

So, close your eyes. Imagine yourself living during the time of your ancient ancestors, before the days of computers, cars, cell phones and television, a time when civilization young, and people lived close to nature. Imagine, if you will, the magical forests through which our ancestors followed winding paths, fairy folk and nature spirits stirring amongst the oaks and elders. The veil was thinner then, and spirit and man lived side by side.  Nature was alive and mankind revered her.


I like to believe that Herman Hess’s poem describes what it used to be like:

Sometimes, when a bird cries out,

Or the wind sweeps through a tree,

Or a dog howls in a far off farm,

I hold still and listen a long time.

My soul turns and goes back to the place

Where, a thousand forgotten years ago,

The bird and the blowing wind

Were like me, and were my brothers.

My soul turns into a tree,

And an animal, and a cloud bank.

Then changed and odd it comes home

And asks me questions. What should I reply?

Herman Hesse

Wishing  you all a great day.

Angelic Visitations

Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth 
Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep.

-John Milton, Paradise Lost-

Each one of us has a personal angel for a friend, that special soul friend who  watches over us all the time. In Celtic spiritual tradition this soul friend is called your Anam Cara. According to the late John O'Donahue, an Irish poet, philosopher and Catholic priest, "You are joined in an ancient and eternal union with humanity that cuts across all barriers of time, convention, philosophy and definition. When you are blessed with an Anam Cara, the Irish believe, you have arrived at that most sacred place: home." They look after us, heal us, and comfort us. They protect us on a day-to-day basis. Do you believe in angels? Have you ever seen your angels?  I have.

The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us and we see nothing but sand; the angels come to visit us, and we only know them when they are gone.

-George Elliot-

When I was young I suffered from bouts of tonsillitis.  Each time I came down with an infection, the doctor would say, "Next time we are going to take them out", but next time never came, each time the same thing was said, and, needless to say, I still have my tonsils. Today, at the most, they appear to be the culprit behind the dreadful tickles I still get in my throat, but, fortunately, the infections no longer come.  They stopped when I hit my early twenties. 

I remember one bout that occurred when  I was about 16 years old.  It was about 90 degrees, yet I was cold as could be. Mom was having a cookout, and I was lying on one of the lawn chairs, covered with a quilt, yet still trembling.  Finally, I just had to give up and go get into bed.  It was somewhere in the wee hours of the morning when I woke up, my mouth parched, but too weak and sick to walk to the kitchen for a drink.  She came to me then, this beautiful, gentle woman, and asked if I needed help.  I responded that I really needed some water, and she went to fetch me a glass.  She brought it back, helped me to prop myself up on the bed, and then held the glass to my mouth.  Afterwards, she sat silently on my bed.  

When I awoke the next morning,  the half-filled glass of water still sat on my night stand, but the woman had disappeared.  When I told my mom about the, she said that I had probably been delirious.  No mystery ghost woman had brought my water; I'd probably done so myself and not remembered doing so. After all, I was very sick, wasn't I?  My mom was never a believer.

Another incident occurred when I was in my thirties.  At the time, I was suffering from sleep apnea. For any of you who suffer from it, you know how frightening it can be. Many a night I would awaken, not breathing, and sit bolt upright in bed struggling to find my breath. One night it was especially bad, and I was sure this was going to be my physical end. My breath would just not come.  It was then that I saw her, a beautiful figure dressed dressed in white, standing at my doorway.  A strange thing happened then.  My breath began to return, and as it did, she gradually faded away.... I never again suffered from an episode of apnea.

Angelic visitation or imagination?  I believe in angels.  I believe that they are always there for us, cheering us on, and willing to step in and help us, if only we ask.  I believe in magic. Nobody ever took that away from me.

Angels, in the early morning

May be seen the Dews among,

Stooping—plucking—smiling—flying—

Do the Buds to them belong?

Angels, when the sun is hottest

May be seen the sands among,

Stooping—plucking—sighing—flying—

Parched the flowers they bear along.

Emily Dickinson

The Greatest of My Grandmothers

When I first read the book, "The Seven Daughters of Eve" by Bryan Sykes, I knew I had to be tested.  I had to find out where I came from so, when I finally got hold of some extra cash I sent to Ancestry to have my mitrochondrial DNA tested. Mitochondria are present in eggs but absent in sperm; hence, everyone gets their mitochondria from their mother. Men and women both have it in their cells. But only women can pass it on to their children.

It takes awhile for the test to be completed, but it was finally done and   as I read the results, I have to tell you, I was totally unprepared for my emotional reaction as I was introduced to my first and greatest grandmother.  I literally burst into tears.  Yes, I am a very emotional person, but this was something that caught me off guard. This is the woman who was at my very beginnings. Thousands of years later, she is still a part of me. 

I discovered that my ancestry stems from a branch known as 'The Travelers' in  Haplogroup U. Haplogroup U descends from a woman in the Haplogroup R branch of the phylogenetic tree, who lived around 55,000 years ago. She literally is my first grandmother. It was her descendants who gave birth to several different subgroups who migrated to new areas and formed subgroups. Most likely originating in central Asia and spreading into Europe in a very early expansion. The presence of Haplogroup U in Europe pre-dates the expansion of agriculture in Europe and may even have been come in contact with Neanderthals living in Europe at the time.

The following is from my report as well as some research that I did:

From Ancestry 'You belong to the Travelers, Haplogroup U, which emerged around 60,000 years ago, not long after the first modern humans left Africa.  Because the Travelers are so old, they've had many descendants who migrated to new areas and formed subgroups." 

The maternal ancestor of this haplogroup was given the name Ursula. The following excerpt is from "The Seven Daughters of Eve".

Sykes begins his first narrative, "Ursula was born into a world very different from our own. Forty-five thousand years ago it was a lot colder than it is today, and would get colder still in the millennia to come leading up to the Great Ice Age. Ursula was born in a shallow cave cut into the cliffs at the foot of what is now Mount Parnassus, close to what was to become the ancient Greek classical site of Delphi." 

Ursula, whose name means She Bear, lived about 45,000 years ago in what is now northern Greece. She was among the first arrivals of a new, modern human to set foot in Europe. She was slender and graceful, in marked contrast to the thickset Neanderthals with whom she and her clan shared the land for another 20,000 years. Her kind brought with them a new and more sophisticated type of stone tool with which to hunt and butcher the abundant game, animals that soon appeared on the walls of limestone caves as the first expression of human art. They spread right across Europe, west across France and north as far as the British Isles.

As the climate deteriorated 25,000 years ago, the clan began its long migration south; eventually reaching Spain and founding what became a refuge for all humans during the coldest millennia of the last Ice Age. As the climate warmed, the scattered clan led the march back to the North to reclaim the once frozen lands. They reached the British Isles and left an indelible record in the limestone caves of Cheddar Gorge. In 1998, DNA was recovered from the famous skeleton known as Cheddar Man and our analysis showed that it belonged to the clan of Ursula. In a dramatic demonstration of genetic continuity, we found that a teacher at the local school, only a few hundred yards from the cave entrance, was clearly a member of the same clan.

The following, when Sykes speaks of Ursula's death, brings tears to my  eyes:

"Ursula had no idea, of course, that both her daughters would give rise, through their children and grandchildren, to a continuous maternal line stretching to the present day.  She had no idea she was to become the clan mother, the only woman of that time who could make that claim.  Every single member of her clan can trace a direct and  unbroken line back to Ursula."

"Today about 11 percent of modern Europeans are the direct maternal descendants of Ursula."

Ursula, per se, was not a real woman, but the clan mother was.  This great woman did live and die thousands of years ago.  And, because she lived, I live.

Graves Disease

Just got back from the doctor, and that is a new diagnosis. Graves Disease, an autoimmune disorder.  It does, however, explain many of my symptoms--increased sweating, intolerance to heat, insomnia, muscle pain, rapid heart beat, shortness of breath, anxiety, and the list goes on and on. In fact I have almost all of the symptoms aside from weight loss, which the doctor says is a misnomer when it comes to the thyroid, and puffy eyelids.  Now it will be the endocrinologist as well as the pulmonologist I have to see, plus a two day scan on the thyroid.  

Amazingly, with all the crap I put in my system, my cholesterol level is perfect.  I am pre-diabetic, but the doctor said with my new diet, that should be well under control and not to worry.  Blood pressure was back up to 166 over 110, but I did have a stressful situation while on the way over to her office.  The moment I left the house it started to pour, thunder and lightning, the works.  The bus stop is across the street, but the bus was a long time coming.  When it arrived it was still pouring, and my umbrella was difficult to close.  The next thing I knew I had sliced my finger open on it.  So, when I got on the bus, the blood was dripping, the umbrella was dripping, my metrocard gave me a rough time, and nobody got up to give this old lady with a cane a seat. 

When the doctor heard that tale, she said "No wonder."  Needless to say, my medication regimen has been changed.